


I Keep You Secret to Keep You Safe

by WritingIllusions (orphan_account)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dom Cullen, Dom Cullen Rutherford, F/M, Hurt, Pregnancy Kink, Relationship Problems, Rough Sex, Smut, back to the Dread Wolf, because smut solves all the world problems, but the Inquisitor holds her own, forgive me solas, getting pregnant kink i guess, i'm becoming a cullenite, is that the same thing? idk, just kidding, okay im done here, slight angst, that will be sorted out via smut, well...kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WritingIllusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eva and Cullen struggle in the early stages of their relationship. He wants to keep them a secret and she tires of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hurt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyBuck112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBuck112/gifts).



> This little piece is written for my dear friend [LadyBuck112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBuck112/pseuds/LadyBuck112) who has slowly but surely been converting me over to a Cullenite. I even started a new play-through with a badass female (human) rouge to win over the Commander's heart...and cock. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Let the overabundance of _italics_ ensue!

Soft fingers brushed delicately against his arm. Not enough for prying eyes to catch, but enough for him to notice, to feel the deftness in her touch.

They were gathered around a large table playing Wicked Grace. It had become a tradition for them to play a few good rounds whenever the Inquisitor returned from one of her countless expeditions.

Tonight was no different. Cullen sat in the middle on the right side, Eva to his left and Varric to his right. Directly across from him was the Ambassador, with Cassandra and Sera on either side of her. Blackwall and Iron Bull took opposing sides at the head of the table. 

“Maker’s breath, will you deal already?” The impatience was clear in his tone, but they did not know the real reason why he was so on edge. Eva’s delicate touch had dipped down, slipping to his thigh and resting gingerly atop his unarmoured skin. Her eyes were glued to the Ambassador and she smiled innocently enough, leaving everyone oblivious to her machinations under the table. 

He needed her hands busy with something else and the cards were the obvious answer.

“In a rush to get back to your reports, Commander?” He dared not to look over at her, fearing that he would lose himself in those mischievous, temptress eyes of hers. He felt her hand glide further down to his groin, ever so slightly and ever so gently. He stiffened. “Don't you know how to let loose and have some fun?”

“There’s a lot of work to do…” His voice trailed, words dying off on his tongue as she _cupped him_ in her hand. He jerked and quickly tried to play it off by clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, pretending to be on the hunt for a more comfortable position. 

They had not made their relationship public yet, but neither doubted that her closest allies were blind to the attraction they had for each other. Still, public displays as these were not his cup of tea. He wished for their private life to remain private, something that only Eva and he could cherish. There was little else to hold onto in the paper thin walls of Skyhold and the prying eyes and whispering mouths of its inhabitants. This..he wanted _this_ to be just for them.

His hand casually shifted to his lap, catching Eva’s in a tight grip. No one paid mind to them as he gently, but firmly, pulled her hand away from him. He pushed her back until her hand was in her own lap and then proceeded to pick up the cards he had been dealt. It was a silent and subtle hint that he was not interested in her games.

Eva felt a pang, a sudden emptiness in the pit of her stomach and a painful jerk of her heart. _Hurt. Shame. Guilt. Anger._ Emotions pooled inside her, a realization dawning on her. Were she and Cullen _that_ different? Was he _that_ embarrassed to be seen even holding her hand in public? Did he not want anyone to know about them because he only used her for a good fuck, as if she was good for nothing else?  


She fought to push those thoughts and poisonous emotions to the side, opting to pick up her own cards and pour all her focus and attention into them. Maybe nothing would ever become of them. Maybe she was a fool to hope that this could be it - that he was the one. Maybe, after Corypheus is defeated, he would no longer have any use for her since there would be no use for the Inquisition and thus no use for them to be in such close proximity at all times. Maybe he would go back to Honnleath, marry his childhood sweetheart, and live happily ever after. Without her. 

_‘Get a grip, Eva,’_ she told herself. This was not the time or place to be thinking about her - her what? Relationship? - with Cullen, much less to stress over it because he simply rejected her flirtatious advances. 

“Blackwall,” her voice was thick as she spoke his name and she swallowed hard, willing her feelings to the depths of her stomach so that she would no longer dwell on them, “another, if you will.” She slid her tin cup over to him and the Warden was all too happy to fill it.

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied with an upward tug of his lips. Dark amber liquid poured forward from the bottle, gushing through the opening like a fierce current of muddied water. He slid the cup back to her and she wasted no time in taking a swing. The malty aroma hit Cullen’s nostrils as she gulped down the ale next to him, droplets of amber missing her luscious mouth and rolling down her chin. 

She didn’t stop. No, not until the entire cup was emptied. 

“Slow down, boss,” The Iron Bull cautioned. “I know you’re no lightweight, but I’d hate to see you pass out before I get the chance to take some silvers off your hands. “

She finally slammed the cup down, the now empty tin _clanging_ against the wood of the table. Cullen watched from the corner of his eye as she brought the back of her forearm to her mouth, wiping any residue that remained. 

She grinned like a fool, “If I recall correctly, _Bull_ , it was I that emptied your pockets last time. So you would only be winning back your own coin...but I doubt that you could manage even that.” She winked at him playfully and Cullen felt his stomach churn. What game was she playing? Was this how she would act whenever she did not get her way? Childish stunts of drinking herself into a stupor and batting her eyelashes at other men - and in his presence, no less. 

Off to his right, Cullen heard the Qunari Battlemaster growl. He knew the sound very well, for it was the same one he made whenever Eva brought the animal out in him. When she would nip and bite at his neck, _he would growl_. When she teased him, made him wait across his bed as she slowly and sensually stripped for him, _he would growl_. When he watched her, on her knees before him, as his hard cock rammed in and out of her gorgeous mouth - the way her thick lips would wrap so perfectly around his shaft - _he would growl_.

Yes, he knew the sound all too well. And the Qun’s words confirmed it. 

_“You have no idea what I could manage, but I could show you.”_

It was an open invitation and her only response was the sultry giggle of a vixen.

\---

The _slam_ of his door echoed loudly and he did not care if it woke all of Skyhold. He was not a jealous man, nor one to easily be angered. But her flirtatious, whore-like giggling at the suggestive remarks of a Ben-Hassrath spy and a washed up Warden drove him mad. The way she raised her honeyed hand over her mouth to stifle her siren laugh like a common Orlesian courtesan.

His blood boiled. He was angry and the bookshelf in the corner of his study became a punching bag for his anger. _Once, twice_ his fist collided, books falling to the ground and scattering about from his sheer strength. His hand remained there, buried in the dark mahogany of his bookshelf as he hung his head in shame. He was losing control and the realization bothered him more than he cared to admit. 

In his tantrum, he had not noticed the door to his study open. Only after the _click_ of the lock did his head shoot up towards the entrance, his amber eyes locking onto pools of vivid green. 

“Maker’s breath,” he murmured as he pulled himself together. He straightened his posture and adjusted the sleeves of his white tunic, suddenly feeling naked and vulnerable without his trusted armor. “I did not hear you enter.”

“Clearly,” the female warrior replied matter-of-factly. “Want to talk about it?”

She took careful, steady steps towards him and he matched her in stride. For every step she took forward, he took one back until there was no where left for him to go. 

“There is nothing to talk about, _Inquisitor_.” And there it was, the one word that spoke more than he could have imagined. The one word that told her he was upset. The one word that gave him away. “The hour is late. You should go-”

“You haven’t used my title in private since our days back in Haven,” she recalled bitterly. Were they really back to square one? Back to formalities and niceties as if they had never shared a bed, never made love to one another? 

“ _Please_ -” he pleaded, “I am in no mood for this, Eva.”

“Then when are you in the mood for _this_ , Cullen?” She spat the words, hissing his name. “We have been sneaking around like some teenage, hormone-crazed delinquents, hiding from all of Skyhold as if what we were doing was so forbidden.” 

“Inquis-”

“Are you afraid what people will think if they find out you are bedding me? Or are you just ashamed _to be seen_ with me?” 

The look on her face shattered him. Though her face was full of defiance and brilliance and willpower, her eyes betrayed her. There, behind those pools of green that even the damned breach in the sky would envy, was _hurt_. Unfiltered, maddening and piercing. 

“Maker - Eva, no!” he reached for her, but she pulled away. Defiant and proud to the end, she would not let him make a fool of her. Cullen stood frozen in place as his arms fell to his sides, limp and useless. Her words seeped in and soon after clarity. Maker, he had been so standoffish with her. So secretive and cautious that perhaps it did seem as though he was ashamed of being seen with her.

But he wasn’t.

“Eva, forgive me. I did not realize how my actions might have been affecting you.” He ran a shaky hand through his golden-blonde tresses, from his forehead to the back of his neck, where his hand rested in nervous strokes. “I only meant to _protect you_. I do not want the people to think less of you because you gave yourself to some poor farmer’s son who could amount to nothing more than this.” He waved his hands around the room, pointing to the simple and homely looking excuse for a study and bedchamber crammed into one measly tower, mocking his position as the Commander of the Inquisitor as if it were some title undeserving of respect.

“You do not get to _choose_ for me,” Eva swallowed, the words on the tip of her tongue laying heavily on her mind. “If it is distance you seek, I shall grant it to you. But I will not be your secret, your harlot to take whenever you desire company.” Her words stung him and she noticed the slight wince he gave. “If you want to be with me, then be with me. Do not waste my time otherwise.”

Even if he had wanted to object, to tell her otherwise and pull her into his arms, he could not. She was gone in the blink of an eye, furious fast-paced boots heavy against the stone ground of the battlements as he was left to ponder on _how_ and _when_ the table that was anger had turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eva belongs to LadyBuck. She is a badass warrior. She doesn't take Cullen's shit. She's fierce, outspoken and can hold her own in fights, physical and verbal. But even the strongest can feel hurt and I wanted to channel that with Eva since I have grown so very fond of her through my email exchange with LadyBuck (see [Swingin'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7548721/chapters/17167015) for reference xD). 
> 
> It's very hard to write for an Inquisitor that is not mine. I'm constantly thinking (with what little I know about this Inquisitor's personality) _"Would Eva do this? Would she say this? How would she handle this?"_ I guess I wanted to paint my own (angsty) picture of the early stages of Eva and Cullen's relationship, even though she is not my Inqy. I hope I have done the warrior justice.


	2. Hanging by a Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen realizes that he cannot be what Eva needs and ends their secret relationship, but will it be too late when he realizes that he cannot live without her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this pair <3 Thank you LadyBuck for allowing me to write them!

_Twelve days._ Almost a fortnight had passed since that night.

Eva had avoided him to the best of her ability and as much as their respective positions would allow. No words were exchanged between them save for the chatter around the war table as she and her advisors strategized on their next move. She had promised him distance and that was exactly what she was giving him. 

His stolen glances in her direction as they huddled around the war table went unnoticed by her. She did not look at him lest he was speaking, did not speak to him lest she absolutely had to. He was not sure how to feel about her sudden coldness, as justified as it may have been.

But did she not realize? Did she not understand that he was trying to protect her? By Andraste, she is a lady of noble birth - the fucking Inquisitor for pity’s sake! And who was he? Some poor farmer’s son with not a penny to his name other than the measly wage the Inquisition could muster to pay him. He owned no land, no mansion covered in glossed ivory tiles for her high-born, bare feet to grace. 

_What would the people think of her,_ he thought to himself. Would they disgrace her for sleeping with the Commander of the Inquisition? Would they think less of her? Sure, everyone deserved to have a partner in some form or another - everyone deserved to find love or lust or whatever feeling they were chasing - even the Inquisitor herself. But not with a Commander, not with an impecunious man with nothing to offer her. 

\---

It was decided that the Inquisitor would go to the Western Approach to drive the Venatori out of the Griffon Wing Keep and claim the fortress for the Inquisition. She was to leave tomorrow at dawn with her personally selected entourage: Varric (to talk her head off with his stories so that her mind would not dwell on Cullen), and Blackwall and Vivienne (for their back and forth bickering that was sure to keep her entertained long enough to forget Cullen).

With a resigned sigh, Eva threw what little she was taking to the Western Approach into her bag and fastened the straps. Her hands lingered on the brown leather, grasping and gripping until her knuckles began to turn a paler hue. She could not change Cullen. She could not make him want her, not the way she needed him to want her. She needed more and he could not give it to her.

Her hold loosened, her anger towards the situation she found herself in dissipating as color returned to her hands. There was no point in feeling ire or woe. He had made his choice _twelve days ago_ and she could not change it. She had to change herself, conform her thoughts to a life without Cullen. A life she did not want nor foresee, but a life she had to endure nonetheless.  


A tentative _knock_ at her door pulled her from those malicious thoughts. Without hesitation or much thought, she bid whoever was at her door to come in. It was probably Dorian with a bottle of Antivan vintage, here to pull her from her sullen mood with alcohol and deliciously sinful exchanges of the men they each had the pleasure of partaking in. Or perhaps it was Vivienne with her extravagant taste coming to make sure Eva packed attire that would at least make her look _somewhat decent_ in the unforgiving heat of the Western Approach. 

It could have been anybody and she wished it had been anybody, anybody but _him_.

“Inquisitor,” he greeted, stoic and void of any emotion. “We should talk.”

Eva busied herself with her belongings, packing them calmly when all she wanted was to hurl them at him and scream at the top of her lungs. “What is there to talk about?” she countered coldly.

“Us,” he replied without delay. He stood at the edge of the staircase as if ready to bolt out of the room if the situation became too uncomfortable. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword at his side, while the other propped against the guard railing of said stairs. “Rather, _where we go from here_ ,” he added.

Eva turned to face him with a glare as she crossed her arms over her chest, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor to emphasize that he was wasting her precious packing time with his unnecessary words. “You’ve made that very clear already, Commander.” 

He sighed heavily, “Look, Eva, I know what you want, what you expect from this.” He shifted, letting his hands fall to his sides, and shook his head with a maddening chuckle. “I cannot prance you around Skyhold with our arms intertwined while others look on with jealousy, no matter how much I may want to. And believe me, they would all be jealous with such a beautiful creature on my arms.” Cullen moved to pace around the small corner of the room, reciting his words like some speech he had been working on all day. _All twelve days._

“I can not show you off like some exquisite trophy the way those Orlesian noblemen do with their women, parading them around like prized Goddesses, though I daresay you deserve far more than to be the arm-candy of some noble prick. No, Eva, I can not give you the things you crave. The things you deserve and Maker knows you deserve far better than this,” he pointed to himself, disgust and pain marrying on his facial features in perfect harmony. Even in this agony, he was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes upon. 

“Forgive me,” he finally said. “I cannot be the man that you need.”

Despite herself, Eva smiled. She couldn’t very well cry in front of him, nor could she throw a tantrum and reveal her pain. No, she would spare him the sight. He was already battling his own inner demons and she would not add more to his burden. _“Thank you, Cullen.”_  


They were the only words she offered, sincere and pure in their meaning. Was she hurt? More than he would ever know. But she was thankful that this little rendezvous between them had not gone further than it had, thankful that she had not professed her feelings for him in the form of those three words. 

“Safe travels, Inquisitor,” he bid her goodnight and a farewell journey.

\---

The party had set out exactly three weeks ago. Leliana made sure to remind him of it daily with reports of the Inquisitor and her all her accomplishments. 

_She closed four rifts in the first day alone,_ she had praised. 

_It’s only been a week and the Inquisitor has established two campsites in the southern part of the Approach and stationed soldiers along the border,_ she reported on the seventh day. 

_The Inquisitor has cleared out the Still Ruins, an abandoned palace built by the Tevinter Imperium that housed a strange rift. She reports that the rift appeared to be frozen in time, aided by some strange magic. They were able to undo the ties of magic and close the rift,_ she gleefully skimmed the report on the fourteenth day. 

But today the Spymaster was somber. 

“My scouts have not received word from the Inquisitor and her companions for two days now. This worries me.” She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips in thought. “They were last seen at the Inquisition campsite just east of the Still Ruins, heading north for the Keep. My agents have not been able to locate them since.” 

“Perhaps their assault on the keep is taking longer than anticipated,” reasoned Josephine. “Have we sent soldiers to investigate Griffon Wing?” 

“No,” the Spymaster replied, shaking her head. “It is too risky. She may not have even ventured to the Keep and to send Inquisition soldiers out there and foil the tactics that the Inquisitor may be putting into place would be foolish. We need more information.” 

“Information?” Cullen, who had been in a paralyzed-like state at Leliana's revelation, now boomed with anger. “She could be in captivity! Tortured or worse yet dead at the hands of the Venatori and you sit here and do _nothing_?!” 

To say he was angry was an understatement. 

Leliana’s sharp eyes shot to him, piercing and silencing. “I am not doing _nothing_ , Commander,” she spat with despise, not keen on having her abilities as a Spymaster and Inquisition council member questioned. “I have sent a lone wolf, my best agent, to scout out the Keep and report back on her findings. I am expecting the report any day-” 

“Sister Leliana!” As if on cue, a scout clad in green Inquisition garb burst through the door, panting heavily and clutching a rolled up document in his right hand. “Scout Harding’s report,” he offered the letter to the Left Hand and she eagerly took it, unrolling it with haste. 

  
  


_The Inquisitor has been successful in claiming the Griffon Wing Keep, but at the cost of many lives.  
Her own hangs by a thread. The Grand Enchanter is doing what she can to keep her alive.  
We will make for Skyhold as soon as she is able. If she is able._

_May the Maker guide us,_

_-H_

  


Cullen let out a breath he did not know he was holding and his world came shattering and crumbling down. What had he done? He sent her to her death with those treacherous last words, words that were not of his own volition but rather needed to be said to protect her and her reputation. Yet here she was fighting for her life and his words offered no protection to either of them.

_'Maker,'_ he prayed silently. _'Bring her back to me. Bring her back and I swear I will cherish her, fall to her feet and beg her to forgive me. Please. Please bring her back to me.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that Harding's report would probably be a lot more coded, but it sounded way better this way ^.^


	3. Throw Caution to the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eva returns to Skyhold and Cullen's reaction is not what she expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be three chapters, but Eva and Cullen keep wanting to go through all these feels and here I am three hours later and still haven't gotten to the smut. You know what, next chapter is jumping right into that shit. No foreplay, no nothing. 
> 
> :P

“Inquisitor?” Vivienne’s soft voice willed her eyes to open, albeit with great difficulty. “How are you feeling?”

Eva forced herself to overcome the physical pain and managed to give the Enchanter her best attempt at a smile. “I’ve felt better.” She snickered at her own wit, but soon regretted the act as another wave of agony ripped through her. Her green eyes scrunched in pain and her mouth contorted into something almost _inhuman._

“She will die if we don’t get her to Skyhold to some _proper healers_!” It was Blackwall’s deep voice that echoed against the stone walls of the Griffon Wing Keep. 

“And she will die _on her journey to Skyhold_ in this state,” countered Vivienne with malice. Though the Grand Enchanter knew her skills in healing magic were less than adequate, she would not allow the Warden to insult her for trying. “If we put any more strain on her body, she will die.”

“Shit,” Varric sighed. “It’s always something.”

“We can’t just sit around here and watch her wither away!” insisted Blackwall, completely ignoring the dwarf. “We have been in this bloody ruin for three days now and she hasn’t improved. We either get her to Skyhold or we send word to the Nightingale that we are in need of the best healers she can muster.”

Vivienne nodded solemnly. 

\---

It was maddening. Infuriating and agonizing. Days passed and turned to weeks and still no sight of her party. They had received word shortly after Scout Harding’s report that the Inquisitor and her companions were in need of mages skilled in healing, but that was almost two weeks ago. 

Cullen had insisted on going with them. He needed to see her. He needed to hold her and comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright. He needed to tell her…

 _’I cannot allow you to leave, Commander,’_ the Spymaster had said. _’We are vulnerable at the moment. An opportune time for Corypheus to send his Red Templars and attack us at our weakest. Should this come to pass, I need you here defending the people of Skyhold.’_

And she was right. It took everything in him to stay planted in his spot as he watched the four mages, accompanied by some of his best soldiers, ride out of the Skyhold gates. 

Each second that ticked by ate at him, ate at his conscience until all he could do was replay the events of the night before she left.

_”I cannot be the man that you need.”_

How daft he had been. How delusional and wrapped up in his own shame that he could not see she wanted him despite his shortcomings. Yet he was foolishly worried about _what the people would think._ Damn them all to the Fade. He was done worrying about them and their whispered words, their conniving games and backhanded dealings. He will show the whole world that _she is his_.

They could speak ill of his courtship with the Inquisitor till their tongues were numb and he would not care. 

All he cared about right now was having her back safe in his arms.

\---

“The Inquisitor!” A loud voice boomed through the fortress, followed by hastened, heavy footsteps against the cobble stone. “The Inquisitor is on the horizon! She has returned!”

Almost immediately bodies rushed to the grandiose iron gates of Skyhold, pushing and shoving past one another to steal a glance. Cullen was not one of those bodies. His legs felt cut off, numb to his commands for them to move. He could not will himself to take even one step as he watched on with bated breath.

The crowd grew and created a half circle around the entrance, shouting with happiness and relief. 

_”It really is her!”_

_“Thank the Maker, our Saviour is back!”_

_“The Inquisitor has returned!”_

And yet Cullen still could not move, even as Josephine and Leliana approached to welcome the weary travelers. It must have only been several minutes, but to Cullen it felt like an endless pool of growing anticipation as time seemed to all but freeze. 

\---

“Remember to smile, my dear.” Vivienne was at her side, their horses trotting in perfect unison. “They look to you as their leader, and their leader must never appear weak.”

“Maker’s balls, give the woman some rest! She just escaped the clutches of death - _narrowly,”_ the Grey Warden criticized behind them. 

“I’ll have to agree with the Iron Lady on this one,” Varric chimed, stroking his chin with one hand as if in deep thought. “Just grin and bear it, kid. At least till you’re safe behind your bedroom walls.”

Eva nodded, “I’m fine. Really.” She absentmindedly touched the side of her stomach where a deep gash had been just three days ago. All that remained of that fatal blow was a raised scar that wrapped around from her navel to the side of her hip. “Almost brand new,” she chuckled and it seemed to ease the worries of her companions. 

She was touched, truly, by the support and care they had shown her over the last several weeks. And even though the physical pain was gone, the emotional pain lingered and not even one of Varric’s ridiculous but humorous stories could ease that hurt. 

The moment that Venatori Assassin snuck up behind her and materialized out of the shadows, Eva knew it would not end well. She had felt the cool steel of the dagger as it came down against her, easily ripping apart her armor and slicing deep into her. The pain was unbearable but the fear of never seeing _him_ again, the thought of his last memories with her being that of a cold and hardened and stubborn woman, was even more excruciating. 

Yes, _she was fine._ It was only her heart that was still broken.

\---

Eva was met with many faces, some familiar and some she did not even recognize. Had they been here all along, living in Skyhold? She wasn’t sure but she quickly dismissed the thoughts as two very familiar faces stepped between the parted circle of the crowd.

“Leliana! Josephine!” she greeted happily, but her smile waned as she realized the advisor closest to her heart was not among them. She forced herself to smile though, remembering Vivienne’s lecture just moments before. Carefully, Eva dismounted her horse and a stable boy moved to take the reins from her, mumbling something along the lines of _“Thank the Maker you are back.”_

“It is good to see you, Inquisitor,” Leliana mimicked the gesture and pulled the warrior into a quick embrace.

“And to see you in _good_ health,” Josephine added as she opted to cursty, ever the Noble Lady. 

“It’s good to be back,” replied Eva as she looked around the crowd that had gathered. All these people had waited for her to return and greeted her now with warm smiles and hopeful eyes. Yet none of them mattered if _he_ was not among them. “Have I missed anything?” she chuckled. 

“Only the daily nuances of exchanging polite words with prim Orlesian nobles and their concerns for your absence.”

“Yes,” Josephine cleared her throat and threw a quick glance at her fellow advisor, not liking the underhanded tone Leliana was so openly using. “Noble Houses from all across Thedas have sent their regards and invitations in hopes that you would attend their balls and soirees. Some have even ventured to extend the invitation in person, but we have kept their questions surrounding your absence at bay. Though, I fear that they were becoming suspicious so it is good that you returned to us now.”

Somewhere through the Ambassador's long winded speech, Eva had stopped listening. It wasn’t purposeful nor did she mean to be rude. But what could she do as _his_ face finally came into view, several feet away but growing closer and closer with each step he took.  
  
He was dressed in his usual attire, armored and protected, his sword at his hip. His face was expressionless and it killed Eva not to know if he had even missed her. Had he even been worried about her? Had she even crossed his mind - _even once?_

“Inquisitor,” he stood tall before her, his voice even and deep. Without warning, and so out of character for the stoic Commander, his arms reached out and wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against his chest. 

Despite her surprise, Eva could not deny how _good_ it felt to be in his arms. How safe and secure she felt. His scent hit her senses, her eyes closing of their own accord as she inhaled him deeply and savored the moment. For all her strength, she could not bring herself to return the embrace, partially because her body was still in shock but mostly because his large, brutish arms prevented her from moving. 

“Comman-”

Her greeting was stifled and it took her a few good seconds to register what had taken place. Surely this was not Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition army - the man that profusely refused any public displays of affection - _kissing her?_

But he was and his lips felt soft against her own. His gloved hand moved to wrap around her neck, holding her in place and deepening their kiss as the other rested on the curve of her waist. His tongue slipped past her parted lips and she relished the feeling of their tongues intertwining in a sensual waltz. 

Faintly, Eva could hear a _wolf whistle_ from a voice that sounded very much like Dorian, but she could not bring herself to care long enough to find out if it truly was her dearest friend. 

“About damn time, Curly.” Varric. That was definitely Varric. 

To her dismay, Cullen pulled back but remained only centimeters from her face. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing those vivid green eyes he had missed so much. Daily the breach in the sky had mocked him, tormented him with its hue and only served to remind him of these beautiful eyes he was staring into.

“Forgive me,” he began with a small smile, his thumb caressing her cheek in tender strokes, “I should have done this sooner.”  
  
“Damn right you should have,” Varric interjected again, but the pair of lovers ignored his remark and resumed in their previous endeavor to explore each other’s mouths, soft moans and slick _smacks_ of their tongues providing sound-effects this time. The crowd cheered at the display: clapping, shouting, whistling, howling. 

Eva smiled. If this was a dream, she did not wish to wake from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did we all have that "awww" moment? I did :D (toot toot, right?)
> 
> Again, much love to LadyBuck for letting me borrow these two. They have been a great inspiration.
> 
> Thank you for all the wonderful comments <3


	4. Deepest Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eva and Cullen finally work out their feels with some much needed smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my expression while reading this during editing: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> You'll see.

After the Commander’s forward display in the courtyard, Eva managed to sift through the crowd and find her way to her bedchamber for much needed rest. Cullen mentioned having a few things to tend to for the moment, but that he would come find her later for their overdue talk. A talk she was feeling much better about after _that_ kiss. 

She had thrown her satchel haphazardly after climbing the stairs to her room, letting its contents fall where they may. She was exhausted - physically and emotionally. She could still feel the faint throb of her muscles where the blade had cut and she swore she could still feel the poison of said blade coursing through her veins. She had never been so close to death and never wished to be that close again. 

With a weary sigh, she walked over to the desk in the opposite corner of the room. She needed to write to her family, apologize for her scarce letters and ensure them that everything was fine. They were certainly worried since she had not written to them in over a month, a much drastic change from her weekly correspondence. 

Eva managed to write of her time in the Western Approach, of her success in claiming the Griffon Wing Keep for the Inquisition forces. She wrote of the dragon they had lured and fought, and how graceful and regal the creature had looked even in defeat. She wrote of the rifts she sealed, counting them on her fingers to make sure she didn’t forget one. She wrote all of this, but omitted the part where she almost lost her life. They didn’t need to know about that. They didn’t need to worry senselessly. 

Before she could read over her letter and seal it with scarlet wax, Eva heard the faint _creak_ of a wooden door, promptly halting her progress. She set the letter down and stood to greet her late night visitor. 

As she ventured to the center of her room, Eva knew exactly _who_ was coming up those stairs. She knew his steps, his gait, his deep breaths. It was _him_ , there was no doubt in her mind. 

She recognized the blonde locks first as they came into view, followed by those unmistakable broad shoulders and rock solid muscles of him arms. Her eyes lingered on his form even as he came to stand in front of her. The silence stretched on while the pair stood, soaking up all their lover’s familiarities that they had come to miss over the last month.

“Cullen,” she began, willing her eyes to break away from those bulging arms that were so exceptionally accentuated by his tight, white tunic. “I’m-”

“No.” Their eyes locked at his command, mint green colliding with golden amber as she lost herself in those honeyed depths. “Allow me to say what I should have said _that_ night.”

Her only answer was a meek nod, for her body was unable to do much else under that burning gaze.

“I was a fool,” he took a slow step towards her, his hand reaching out to catch her waist. “Maker preserve me, I was a bloody fool to let you go like that. I was angry. Angry at you for not understanding that everything I did, everything I do, is to protect you. _I thought I was protecting you_ , but when I heard that you had…” his voice trailed, his eyes glazed over at the memories he wished to forget. He could not finish the sentence for the mere thought of losing her was suffocating him.

“I meant every word I said. I am not the man you deserve, but by the Maker I will do my damndest to be the _man that you need._ I swear it, Eva, by the Maker, by Andraste - by whatever bloody being controls our cruel fates - I will be _whatever_ you need me to be...if you will let me.”

“Cullen…” Her eyes softened and she fought back the tears that threatened to spill. The moment _that blade_ made impact, the moment that she felt the poison seep into her flesh, she knew what she had to do and she swore to the Maker that if he saw her through this and allowed her to live, she would tell him; “I love you.”

Cullen’s brows rose at the revelation and his body instinctively pulled back in shock, unable to process what she had just said. Eva watched him keenly, her bright eyes searching his face for any sign that he might feel the same way about her. But as seconds ticked by without the reciprocated words she was waiting on, dread began to seep its way into her gut. She did not regret those words for they were the truth, but she could not help the empty, hollow feeling that was closing in on her. Her eyes fluttered and she tore her gaze away, her hands busying themselves in nervous fidgeting. 

“Truly?” His voice was heavy as if something troublesome had stirred deep inside him. When she did not reply, his grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly. “Eva, _tell me._ Tell me that this is not some trick, that I have not lost my mind. Tell me. Say it again, _please_. I need to hear it again.”

“Cullen, I love you.” The words left her mouth freely and she suddenly found herself at the Commander’s mercy. His lips crashed into hers, devouring her with hungry, open kisses. 

“ _Again_ ,” he urged against her mouth as both his hands found purchase in the soft curves of her hips. 

“I love you,” she managed between labored kisses. Her hands slipped around his neck and pulled his body closer against hers. “ _I love you._ ”

Suddenly and abruptly, he pulled back but remained locked and tangled with her body. “And I love you, Eva.”

She could not stop the smile that found its way to her flushed lips even if she had wanted to. 

\---

Neither of them could recall when exactly their clothes had come off, but they cared little now as they found themselves tangled between white sheets; their naked, hot and sweat-soaked bodies dancing and twisting to a beautiful love ballad that only they could hear. 

Eva’s moans grew louder as Cullen bit down on her exposed breast, suckling on her hardened bud with teasing laps of his tongue. Her hands lost themselves in his golden curls and held his head steady against her, a silent command that she wanted more of _this_. 

“Cullen,” his name rolled off her tongue in a delightful whimper as he bit down on her sensitive nipple. Despite her hold on him, his head continued down her body as his lips left a trail of wet kisses against her honeyed skin. Between her breasts and down to her naval he kissed, stopping shy of her newly added scar. He traced its path with his thumb, his calloused finger feeling odd against the lengthy scab. 

“I should have been there.”

It was a whisper, a silent reprimand to himself, but Eva caught it and tucked her finger under his chin. She tilted his view to meet hers and her eyes softened at the turmoil he so visible wore. “There’s nothing you could have done, Cullen.”

Her words were meant to appease him, but they seemed to do little to convince him. “I should have been there to protect you,” again his thumb brushed against her scar, his eyes hardening and pulling away from her gaze, _“I could have been there to watch over you.”_

Eva chuckled, but quickly caught herself as Cullen’s fierce gaze returned to her, obviously finding no humor in his words the way she did. “My love,” she stroked his cheek tenderly, “I had a skilled Grey Warden, a brilliant Knight Enchanter and the best damn rogue I’ve ever seen at my side. And not to mention _Bianca_ ,” she added quickly and managed to get the desired effect from her lover. His light laugh filled her with happiness and she knew there was no sound more melodious. “None of us saw it coming and there is nothing anyone - not even you - could have done to prevent it from happening.”

He sighed, hanging his head and resting it against her belly as she continued. “Besides, I think you would have proven to be more of a distraction, anyway.” 

At this he smirked, “Distraction? You seemed to be ignoring me just fine daily during the war council.”

“Just because I am mad at you does not mean I am any less attracted to you. Quite the contrary, actually,” she licked her lips seductively, “it turns me on even more when we are fighting. _Make up sex is the best kind of sex._ ”

“Oh?” he quirked an eyebrow in feigned astonishment but the smirk on his lips told a different story. “Tell me more of this _make up sex_ you imagine us having.” As he spoke, he propped himself back up on his elbows and proceeded in his previous endeavor. He continued to move lower and lower until his face hovered right above her juicy delicacy. Eva watched as he hooked her leg up over his shoulder, positioning himself for the feast he was to partake in. 

“I imagine-” she gasped at the sudden contact of his hot tongue against her entrance, having expected him to draw it out and tease her like he so often did.

“Continue,” he growled against her.

“I imagine,” she began again, whimpering and clutching at the sheets as his tongue lapped at her, “I imagine you bending me over the war table and fucking me till I scream your name.” She moaned as his tongue parted her lips and dipped into her core. “I think about you getting so angry that you _slam me against the wall and fuck me so hard till I can’t feel my legs anymore_." His actions were draining her from coherent thought. "Fuck, yes, Cullen,” Eva rolled her hips, twisting and bucking them upwards against his face for more friction, “just like that.”

But the Commander was not having it. With an iron like hold, he grasped her hips and pushed her flush against the bed. He held her down as he lifted his gaze to her, his amber eyes dark and sinister. “Do not move.”

And she tried her damndest not to, but the feel of his tongue gliding so expertly along her cunt was maddening. She clutched and clawed at the sheets in hopes of finding something to keep her grounded, to keep her from grinding her heat against his stubble in a frenzied search for her climax. “Cullen, please,” she pleaded. Her hips twitched, her legs quivered, and a familiar convulsion began to set rhythm deep in her belly.

“What do you want? Tell me.” His breath was hot against her skin for a moment before he returned to licking her succulent peach. His fingers did not join in as they busied themselves with holding down her quivering body. 

“I want to cum,” she begged, bashfulness long forgotten. “Make me cum all over your tongue, baby, _please._ ”

His rhythm changed, moving from long, steady strokes to quick, systematic flicks at her clit. He drew her sensitive bud to his mouth, suckling and licking interchangeably. It drove her mad that he would not keep a steady rhythm and she knew he was teasing her. The smirk she felt against her skin was proof of that. 

“ _Please!_ ” she wailed, forgetting her orders and bucking wildly against him as her hands caught onto a bed of golden hair. She tugged at it, pulling him closer against her as his tongue continued its assault. 

Rather than reprimand her, Cullen was spurred on by her inability to hold back. It was almost _prideful_ to watch her lose control and beg him to finish her off. And he would not deny her any longer.

His right hand freed her hip and almost instantly she felt two thick fingers intrude and spread her. She cried at the sensation, the fullness from his digits as he began to pump in and out of her with fervor rendering her hysterical. “Show me,” he urged, “show me how you cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

It didn’t take long for a film of white to cloud her vision. The dull, throbbing sensation in the pit of her stomach seemed to grow with each thrust of his fingers until it finally exploded. Her eyes closed instinctively as a wave of pleasure washed over her, her mouth hanging open soundlessly. 

Below her, Cullen groaned as he felt her walls contract against his fingers. He wished it were his cock now inside her to feel her tighten and milk him. But there was time for that and he held himself back from plunging right into her and fucking her senseless. 

As she came down from her high, Eva let her arms fall unceremoniously to her sides, spent and breathing heavily. “Cullen.” She smiled and he knew his name was a form of appreciation as all other words failed her.

With a smirk he pulled himself up along her body and kissed the side of her cheek, “Are you ready for me, my love?” He was painfully hard and only her hot, tight cunt could suffice to take care of him. He positioned himself against her, his cock throbbing in his hands with need.

“Wait!” Eva suddenly pushed against his chest, a realization dawning on her. How could she forget? “Cullen, we can’t..”

He shot her a skeptical look but remained silent.

“I haven’t, well, you know..” Maker, why was it so hard to talk about this? She sighed and willed herself to face him openly about the subject. They were both grown adults, after all. “Since falling ill, my body was weak and Vivienne forbid me from taking any elixirs, prescribed or otherwise. I haven’t been taking any witherstalk, either.”

Ah, _witherstalk_. An herb proven to prevent the consequences of unmarried coupling. 

“Is that all?” Cullen threw his head back in a hearty laugh but quickly subsided when he noticed Eva was not finding the situation as humorous. His face grew solemn and his amber eyes darkened with lust. She could feel him position himself at her entrance again, the head of his generous cock parting her folds, _”Then I suppose I will have to fill you with my child.”_

Eva had no time to protest as he plunged into her, slick with her juices. She cried out as her walls stretched to accommodate his girth, her nails digging into his back from the sudden ache at her core. He groaned beside her ear, “Is that what you want, my love? Do you want me to spill my seed deep inside your belly and make you heavy with my child? Tell me, Eva.”

Her mind was spinning. The sensation of his thick cock ramming in and out of her coupled with his profane words was almost too much for Eva to handle. She had thought about it on many occasions: what if the witherstalk concoction failed during one of their steamy love-making sessions? What if she absentmindedly forgot to take it? What if she did accidentally conceive? How would Cullen react? How would he feel?

“Tell me, Eva,” he demanded again, nipping at her earlobe. He continued to thrust into her with long, deep strokes, easing himself almost completely out of her heat only to plunge back in with increasing aggressiveness. “By the Maker, there would be no sight more beautiful than you with a growing belly and my child inside. Tell me you want this, too, Eva, and I will make it so. Or tell me to stop and I will, my love.” 

At his revelation, a fluttering but deeply carnal sensation found its way to the pit of her stomach. Yes, she wanted nothing more than to feel him burst inside her, to feel his seed sprout from his thick cock in wild jerks and take root deep in her belly. “Yes, Cullen!” she wailed as he thrust deep, burying himself to the hilt. “Come deep inside me, baby. _Mark me. Own me._ ”

He pulled out suddenly and she whimpered at the loss of his meaty phallus. Before she had time to even think, Eva felt his rough and calloused hands hook at the back of her thighs and in one fluid, effortless motion her flipped her on her stomach. She struggled to raise herself on all fours before he pounced on top of her, ramming his cock back into her throbbing core with easy. 

She cried out and gripped the cotton sheets, clawing at the fabric in hopes that it would steady her against his ruthless thrusts. “Yes,” she moaned as pain and pleasure mixed in perfect harmony. “Fuck, Cullen, I’m gonna come again.”

Eva felt his hand slip to her belly and lower to her growing climax. His finger danced over her swollen clit, taunting and teasing. “Are you gonna come all over my cock? Is that want you want?”

“Yes, yes! Please, let me come,” her voice trailed as his fingers began to rub steady circles against her clit. She was delirious at the sensation and unholy words continued to spill from her mouth, brash praises of his cock and the things he was doing to her. 

“I want you to scream when you come.” His hand caught strands of black hair and yanked her head back, pulling her body flush against his. She lost the sheets between her fingers and now desperately searched for something to claw at. Her right hand grasped the forearm of his while he continued to make steady swirls around her clit, her fingers digging into his flesh. Her left hand found itself attached to her breast, kneading the soft flesh and pinching her erect nipples. “I want all of Skyhold to hear you as you come on my cock. I want them all to know that you are mine and mine alone. Do I make myself clear?” His breath was hot against her ear as he continued to hold her upright, his cock never relenting. 

“Yes, _Commander_ ,” she teased, but it earned her a painfully hard thrust. She bit down on her bottom lip, chewing the soft flesh between her teeth as her orgasm began to grow closer.

She felt a tight tug at her hair and a brutal thrust of his cock into her heat, “Did I not make myself clear?”

Eva felt herself nearing the edge at his husky, deep reprimand. “Yes, Cullen!” she screamed as his strikes continued, growing erratic and frenzied in his own search for release, “I’m gonna come so fucking hard, baby. _Fuck_ , keep fucking me just like that.” 

His eyes were shut tight as he tried to focus on anything but her seductive pleas and erotic _slaps_ of their soaked skin colliding together. He wanted to last longer, to pound her relentlessly for hours. But it was proving a difficult task and his undoing came when he felt her walls clench down on his throbbing cock. “Yes, baby, come inside me! Please, Cullen, give me your cum.”

With those words, he felt himself lose control and his body fell into the depths of an intense orgasm. His vision went black, his hips thrusting sporadically as his seed emptied deep inside her and mixed with her own juices. Her release followed shortly after, pride filling his chest at the sound of her roaring, unfiltered and unholy profanities. 

“Fuck,” he heaved. He remained inside her until he was sure every last drop was spent and ungracefully collapsed on the bed beside her. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted with a smirk as he pulled her body against his, cradling her to his side as her head rested on his chest.

“You only say that because you tire of your hand,” she retorted with an equally mischievous smirk. 

“You caught me,” he chuckled. His hand began to make circles on her lower back, stroking her skin in tender affection. “I will never let you leave my side again,” he whispered as if it was a promise more to himself. 

_“Don’t be silly, Commander. I’m the Inquisitor. I have things to do, people to save, rifts to close. You can’t keep me chained to your person,”_ is what she wanted to say. But instead she opted to let the Commander have his peaceful illusion. The more pressing matter was the possible consequence of their coupling. Now that the euphoria had died down and the hormones returned back to normal, they had to address the reality of what this indiscreet session might bring about in the future. “Cullen, what do we do if...you know.”

Though he wanted to tease her, tell her “ _know what?_ ” just to see her flush with embarrassment and struggle with the words, he knew this was no joking matter. He smiled instead and pulled her closer to his body, nuzzling his nose against her hair and inhaling the familiar scent of cocoa butter and cinnamon that he had come to love. _“I’ve always wanted to be a father.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I need to apologize to LadyBuck. I kind of took Eva and Cullen and just stole all these “firsts” for them in this fic: first time to say the L-word, first time laying together without protection, etc. But this is just a fanfic of a fanfic, so I’m allowed to headcanon this and make it my own, right? xD
> 
> Thank you to all the wonderful comments and for everyone that has left Kudos. I truly appreciate knowing that people like my work enough to take the time to comment/leave Kudos. I hope LadyBuck approves of this “coupling” cause I know her Eva and Cullen like it rough. And if you haven’t already, I highly recommend reading her smutty works because - lawd - it is hottttt.
> 
> I spent days re-reading and editing this and just decided, _fuck it. I'm posting it._ Yolo. 
> 
> Now that I got my Cullen fix in, it's back to the claws of the Dread Wolf for me *commence evil laugh*


End file.
